


Order of Operations

by Android_And_Ale



Series: The Hero of Nova Herculania [4]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alley rendezvous, Anniversary, Bad Hostages, Everyone else is a little uncomfortable (and a little turned on), Hadrian doesn't understand how presents work, Hero Vibe kicks ass and takes names, Hero Worship, Hero!Cisco, Inquisitor!Iris, Kissing, M/M, Show level science, Show level violence, This isn't how rescues are supposed to work, Villain Harry is so into it, What happened to all of Earth VII's insects?, harrisco, villain!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 06:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13711365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Android_And_Ale/pseuds/Android_And_Ale
Summary: Wells clucked his tongue in playful disappointment. “You should take better care of yourself. That arm will need a sling for the next few days, but at least I relocated it for you.”“You’re the one who ripped it out of its socket!” Vibe snapped.Wells predatory grin widened. “We both know you like it rough.”The hostages glanced nervously at one another.“Let me make it up to you,” Wells purred. He knelt next to his strobing blue pulse rifle, flexing his exposed biceps as his fingertips lovingly stroked the barrel.The hostages squirmed in their seats. This rescue was quickly going off the rails.





	Order of Operations

“Get off me!” Vibe shouted as Hadrian Wells knee hit the middle of his back. Professor Pennance shoved him roughly against the concrete wall. One of his arms latched onto Vibe’s shoulder, the other onto his upper arm, roughly pulling back. The sickening pop was drowned out by Vibe’s screams.

Wells took two steps back, satisfied. Vibe fell to the ground, still whimpering in pain. Wells turned to the wide eyed captives to make sure they were still watching. He wanted witnesses for this.

He knelt next to Vibe. Two fingers twirled briefly in the long black curls obscuring Cisco’s face. Professor Penance tucked the stray lock of hair behind the hero’s ear. The pad of his thumb stroked under Vibe’s eye, smudging his tear and sweat streaked eyeliner.

“Don’t fucking touch me, you psychopath,” Vibe hissed.

“You always say that.” Hadrian smiled, all teeth and hunger.

Vibe’s eyes darted across the open concept apartment in the former warehouse. It’s terrified owners sat duct taped to a pair of hand carved, high back chairs that probably cost more than Vibe made in a month. The taller one’s bionic eye had been roughly plucked from its still bleeding socket and mounted on a tripod in front of them so he was forced to watch himself. Vibe frowned, struggling with the Latin. He was pretty sure the words written on their foreheads in eyeliner pencil translated to ‘Guilty’ and ‘Idiot.’

‘Guilty,’ who had both eyes but a broken leg, caught Vibe’s gaze. He stared frantically at Wells comically large pulse rifle, discarded only a few feet in front of the captives.

Vibe pushed himself up on his good arm. Wells rolled his heavily painted eyes, smiling patronizingly. “Really, Vibe?”

Wells sauntered over to the gun and casually kicked it even closer to Vibe, just a few feet out of his reach. Vibe rolled over on his side, stretching his good arm out like he was summoning The Force.

Wells clucked his tongue in playful disappointment. “You should take better care of yourself. That arm will need a sling for the next few days, but at least I relocated it for you.”

“You’re the one who ripped it out of its socket!” Vibe snapped.

Wells predatory grin widened. “We both know you like it rough.”

The hostages glanced nervously at one another.

“Let me make it up to you,” Wells purred. He knelt next to his strobing blue pulse rifle, flexing his exposed biceps as his fingertips lovingly stroked the barrel.

The hostages squirmed in their seats. This rescue was quickly going off the rails.

Vibe squirmed against the wall, gruntling a little as he tried to sit up. Already on his knees, Wells stretched out to him, practically crawling half a step. Vibe held out a hand. As Wells reached for it, Vibe flipped his palm up. A blast of vibrational energy erupted from his hand, pushing Wells back across the room until his body slammed hard against an exposed brick wall.

“You’re so predictable,” Vibe sneered. He grunted as he stood, dusting off his leather pants with his good hand. Wells was right. His dislocated right arm was going to be mostly useless for the near future. At least he didn’t have to make up a lame excuse back on Earth-1 anymore.

Wells half pulled himself up against the wall. Vibe shot him with another blast from his left hand, flattening him against the floor. Something cracked. “Stay down!”

He reached for his right ear, tapping the comms. “Larvin! You still there?” Crunchy static played too loud in his ear. He could almost make out a word. It might’ve even been in English. He glared across the room at Wells. “Asshole.”

‘Idiot’s’ cell phone trilled that he had a text message. Vibe sighed and awkwardly fumbled through the injured man’s tunic pockets for it. The lock screen displayed his last four text messages. The most recent one read, “That better be aimed at Professor Penance.” Vibe snorted.

Then he read the previous three messages.

What. The. Fuck.

“Seriously?” He glared at the hostages. ‘Guilty’ looked defiant, but the temporary cyclops had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“I said I had a present for you, Vibe,” Wells said from across the room. Vibe casually unleashed another force blast, slamming him against the wall again to shut him up.

Vibe limped over to the marble kitchen island and pulled out a Wusthof chef’s knife. The hostages eyes went round as he closed in on them. ‘Idiot’ struggled pointlessly against the duct tape.

“Oh, come on. You’ve seen my commercials. What do you think I’m going to do to you?” Vibe demanded.

‘Guilty’ cocked his head towards Wells then gave Vibe a look that suggested he really didn’t want to be part of their foreplay. Vibe sighed.

“I cut you out, you gotta promise not to run,” Vibe’s voice was equally stern and disappointed.

They nodded in unison. Across the room, Wells laughed. “Really, hero? At least let the Legatus Legionnaires unwrap my present.”

Vibe shot him a quick glare. “Capturing bad guys isn’t a present for me,” he snapped. “It’s what you should be doing all the time, Doctor Dumbass.”

The hostages exchanged a quick confused look.

“Call me sentimental.” Wells bonelessly slid up the wall, holding his hands up, palms out, in a placating gesture. “I wanted to give you something nice. After all, it is our anniversary.”

‘Guilty’s’ eyes widened. His eyes flicked furtively between Professor Penance and Vibe. He took a deep breath. When he let it out, his head sagged against his chest, all hope drained from his face. He gently shook his head from side to side, visibly questioning the life choices that led him to be duct taped to a chair between these two.

“No.” Vibe facepalmed. He peeked through his fingers at the hostages. An erection tented ‘Idiot’s’ tunic. He tried to distract attention from his fear boner with a harmless smile.

Vibe chewed his bottom lip, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. “We’re not…” ‘Idiot’s’ tripod mounted mechanical eye rolled in unison with his organic one.

The cellphone trilled again. Vibe picked it up. Now the top message on the lock screen read, ‘Yes you are.’

Vibe sat down the phone with a sigh. “How far away are the Legionnaires?” His com might be half broken, but at least he knew Larvin could hear him.

The phone trilled. ‘10 m’

Vibe stared at the phone. “What is that? Ten minutes? Ten meters?”

The sliding metal front door exploded in on its hinges. The Legatus Legionnaires behind it tossed the door ram into the room and fell to their knees in a well practiced motion. The legionnaires flanking them slid their shields in place while the ones standing behind them leveled guns braced on their kneeling comrade's shoulders.

Vibe leaned hard against the kitchen island. “About damn time, Iris.”

Inquisitor West silently motioned for her squad to swarm. They broke out of their ramming formation and spread out across the open loft, muttering occasionally in disgust or envy as they kicked open closet doors and knocked down hand painted Persian room divider screens.

“Cheapasses,” she muttered. “Tried to make an aluminum door look like steel.” With the titanium helmet pushed up above her face, she looked like a reincarnation of Minerva herself. Her thigh length storm blue leather uniform jacket was slit along the sides to just below the waist. The uniform’s stormcloud grey tunic stopped just above her knees, embroidered in a thick band of Inquisitor rank gold and blue. Power sliding across too many floors had badly scuffed the pointed knee bracers of her thick soled, well worn blue leather boots. The thick strap supporting her regulation pulse taser was decorated with cuffs, calmer gas grenades, and a recharge station for her personal accountability swarm.

Vibe nodded at the documents neatly arranged on the island. “I present what I believe your favorite CSI calls an ‘orgy of evidence’.”

Inquisitor West’s eyes slid over to Hadrian Wells. “It’s an orgy of something,” she muttered under her breath.

Wells leaned against the wall, bare arms strategically crossed to show off the hard swell of his biceps. He shot the Inquisitor a familiar wink before pulling a tube of silver-blue lipstick and a pocket mirror from one of the half dozen pouches on his utility belt.

On this humid, muggy night he’d forsworn his usual form fitting black leather jacket and leggings in favor of a simple knee length black tunic made from soft egyptian cotton. It was fastened at the shoulders with silver pins decorated to look like circuit boards, with matching silver embroidery at the hem. The age-softened black leather bracers wrapped around his forearms matched his weathered black leather boots. The knees were worn so thin they were practically shiny.

Two of her best legionnaires stood in front of him, weapons aimed at his chest and head. Another kicked his pulse rifle towards the window, out of his reach.

Wells shark-like grin returned. She shuddered a little as he blew her a kiss. “Do you think any of this will stick?” she asked Vibe.

He shrugged. “I was too tied up to really go over it.”

“Order of operations, Vibe. I’ll tie you up later,” said Wells.

Vibe casually force blasted him against the wall again, accidentally knocking the gun out of one of the legionnaires hands. Wells picked it up and handed it back, tactfully keeping the barrel aimed at himself. The legionnaire blushed. Wells bowed slightly, gracing her with his most dazzling smile.

Inquisitor West shot Vibe a disapproving look. “Fulgora promised me she was sending her people out with cuffs and chains, fashion be damned. You can’t keep beating them up all night. Not now that your friend Feedback lost his appeal.”

“That was an accident,” Vibe protested.

Inquisitor West put her hands on her hips, glaring him down. “He ripped a man’s arm off.”

“A man who had it bronzed then beat five people to death with it,” said Vibe.

“In Vibe’s defense, he did have me cuffed earlier,” Wells added.

Cisco held up a hand, palm out. “Not helping,” he said. “Just hurting.”

West shook her head at the pair as she sorted through the neatly labeled file folders. “We’re never going to get them on endangered animal trafficking. They go through too many subcontractors.” The Inquisitor frowned in disappointment as she flipped through pictures of animals she knew were either dead or in the wrong hands or both.

“Check the Secret Dinner Club folder,” said Wells. “They serve the ones they can’t sell.”

Inquisitor West opened another manilla folder. Both she and Vibe turned their heads away instantly. “I can’t unsee that,” he muttered. They stared at the ceiling, taking in the mosiac of nymphs riding horse sized winged penisses as a mental pallate cleanser.

“They fed a baby tiger nothing but beer for 10 months just to see how that would affect the meat’s taste,” said Wells.

Vibe couldn’t help looking at the hostages and raising his eyebrows. They shrugged. In their line of work it was a valid question. Plus, the drunk tiger cub was fucking adorable.

Inquisitor West wasn’t so gentle. Her withering glare was full of undisguised loathing. “Why?” She leaned as far back as possible before flipping over another photo. One glance and she had to look away again.

“Identity Theft,” said Wells.

The hostages bravado dissolved as they suddenly glared at one another. Vibe and Detective West watched in fascination as a silent argument played out over their duct taped faces.

“The kind of wealthy idiots who sign up for a an endangered animal pop up restaurant make easy targets,” said Wells.

“They sent you an invite, didn’t they?” Vibe sighed.

The temporary cyclops turned away from his fellow hostage, clearly disgusted their plan was so obvious.

Vibe hesitantly stretched a finger to flip open the next folder. Each page of the printed Excel spreadsheets within had a small photo with net worth, bribable contacts, suggested breaking point, and biographical details stretching back to birth.

“Hey!” Vibe protested. “Why am I in here?”

“Probably all the compromising photos of you and your nemesis with benefits,” suggested Inquisitor West.

The hostage’s phone pinged again. Vibe didn’t need to read it to know what Larvin would add.

“How was I supposed to know every single bug in this town is literally a bug?” asked Vibe. No one would tell him what happened to the real insects.

Inquisitor West turned to Hadrian Wells. “What’s he talking about?”

Wells was gone.

The two legionnaires guarding him still held their guns level at where his head and chest should be. Their mouths were smeared with dark silver flecked lipstick, a stark contrast against the Zeus Blue shade that went with their uniform jacket, tunic, and boots.

“Seriously?” Inquisitor West spun around, also searching for Wells. “How in Hades does a two meter tall man smear hallucinogenic lipstick on two trained legatus legionnaires without any of the rest of you noticing!” she demanded. He’d even had time to draw a chalk smiley face on the brick wall. “Where is he?”

A legionnaire who, until now, had been concentrating on massaging honey and lime scented duct tape adhesive remover into the hostage’s hair sheepishly pointed at an open window next to the fire escape. The pulse rifle was also missing.

Vibe shook his head. He stomped past the hostages, slapping the back of their heads as he went. “You got this?” He jerked a thumb at Inquisitor West. She nodded. “Good. I’ll go get that.”

“Riiight,” Iris muttered. “You get you some.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. His right arm still throbbed from being dislocated. His jaw hurt from the punch that was already purpling his flesh. He wasn’t in the mood to chase Hadrian, but this was the fourth “present” he’d left today. Each one tied up in a bow. Actually, that one was disturbing. Most of them were merely duct taped, chained, or in one case, trapped under his own broken furniture.

But they all came with a card. And according to the cards, if he didn’t catch Wells before the fifth “present,” someone was going to die.

Vibe climbed out the window. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” shouted Inquisitor West. The cell phone pinged another text message. Behind him, he could hear a couple legionnaires chuckle quietly.

Once he was away from Iris and the legionaries, Cisco plastered himself to the brick wall, breathing deeply. His good hand slid into his pocket, closing around the Mercury Medallion Hadrian gave him. He’d made it with his own hands, creepily including a bit of his own blood, hair, saliva, and semen, because these Novi Romani were just as gross and superstitious as their ancient counterparts back on Earth One.

It had enough of Hadrian in it that within a few breaths he could always vibe the asshole’s location. The faint buzzing nearby told him he was being watched by a few swarms of cameras. He let go of the medallion and stepped up on the railing. His good hand opened a breach at his feet and he stepped forward, twisting so his long curls spiraled like jet black tentacles as he dropped through it.

On the other side, he landed lightly on his toes, bouncing into a crouch. His good arm extended out before him, ready to attack.

Hadrian clapped slowly. “That’ll look good on tonight’s news roundup.” He leaned against a nearby stone wall. He’d changed lipstick and added more hair glitter in the time it took Vibe and the Inquisitor to notice he escaped.

“Where’s the last hostage?” Cisco demanded.

Hadrian popped a small silver cylinder out of his utility belt and tossed it in the air. It shot up eight meters before exploding into a fine silver mesh net. Vibe clawed at his ear as the malfunctioning com suddenly screeched uncontrollably. Wells sauntered underneath the rapidly descending net and pulled on a weighted string dangling down from the center. It collapsed in on itself, gathering hundreds of tiny mechanical insects with it.

Vibe fumbled the ruined com out of his ear and angrily tossed it at Hadrian. It bounced off his tightly muscled chest.

“Ear still ringing?” Hadrian gently stroked the side of Cisco’s face. “Couldn’t be avoided. We deserve some privacy.” He pulled the cord connecting the edges of the swarm net until the spider-silk-like fabric shrank into the size of a tote bag. He shook it. Hundreds of dead flying cameras clicked together. He looked up, in case he’d missed any, and announced to the air, “I always appreciate the hardware donations.” Now that the com was out of Cisco’s ear he pushed another button, causing faint mechanical squeals and sparks for blocks as mechanical bees rained down.

“I don’t know why they bother.” Hadrian winked at Cisco as he tossed the bag over his shoulder.

“Are you done?” Cisco demanded. He slumped against the alley’s brick wall, overcome with exhaustion.

“With you?” Hadrian smirked. “Never.”

“Because I am done here!” Cisco looked up. His kohl had smeared into raccoon eyes and his heroic gold cheek glitter accented little more than bruises. “I am broken and exhausted and fucking done with your Mad Scientist bullshit.” His arm throbbed and his jaw ached and he was pretty sure his ribs were fractured. Again.

Hadrian closed the distance between them. He braced his hands on either side of Cisco’s head and leaned close, lightly dragging the tip of his nose down Cisco’s forehead. “I’m only a mad scientist when you piss me off.” His lips lightly brushed Cisco’s. “Most of the time I’m more of a dashing rogue scientist.”

Cisco impatiently pushed him away. “The only place that weasel’s nest you call hair is dashing to is a SuperCuts.”

Hadrian kissed his bruised jaw. Cisco winced, but didn’t push him away. He kissed a line across Cisco’s neck until he could suck on his earlobe. “You know whenever I don’t understand your offworld references I assume they’re compliments.”

“They never are.” Cisco wanted to snap at him, but the angry tone in his voice was contradicted by the softness of his hands sliding under Hadrian’s tunic, fingers moving up the solid, sweaty muscle of his thighs.

“Your last card,” Cisco breathed heavily. “Said if I didn’t stop you in time someone would die.”

Hadrian unzipped Vibe’s leather jacket. “Always the hero.”

Cisco pushed him away. “I can’t let you - “

“Me.” Hadrian interrupted him. “I’m the fifth victim.”

Cisco winced as his head fell back against the rough stone wall. “Why do you have to be such a fucking drama queen?”

“Every one of your presents tonight had a theme.” Hadrian stared into his eyes. “Relocation. Violent and dangerous things taken out of their element and put somewhere new.” He slid a hand inside Vibe’s leather jacket. “Until you rescued them.” He stepped closer, one hand cupping Cisco’s unbruised cheek. “You still have one mission left.”

“This would be almost romantic if it wasn’t desperate and creepy,” said Cisco.

“I contain multitudes.” Hadrian kissed him softly.

“Go live on Jesse’s world,” said Cisco. “I checked up on her last week. She’s doing well.”

Hadrian laughed. “She’s worshipped by a lightning cult that’s never seen a meta before.” He slid his fingers under Vibe’s suspenders, eliciting a small snicker as he snapped them roughly against his chest.

Reverb’s words echoed in Cisco’s mind. ‘We could be gods.’ “I read their propaganda,” he said. “There are worse religions.”

“I need,” he breathed against Cisco’s honey skin, distracted by the smells of cardamom and myrrh in his moisturizer. He summoned all his strength to resist the warm temptation before him. “I need a world with tech equal or greater than this one.”

“You’re lucky I don’t open a breach to Inquisitor West’s office and shove you through,” said Cisco. His hands slid further up under Hadrian’s tunic. How the hell a man his age ran across rooftops every night without underwear was a mystery to Cisco. He let his fingers drift up over Hadrian’s muscular ass, dragging him closer.

Hadrian sucked his bottom lip, releasing it to kiss him softly. “Take me home tonight.”

Cisco laughed, pulling him tighter. “I don’t want wanna let you go until you see the light?”

“Really?” Hadrian straightened. A dumb, happy smile overtook his creepily predatory expression.

Cisco rested his forehead against Hadrian's chest. “No, dumbass. It’s a song lyric.”

“Play it for me. In your home.” Hadrian rubbed his cheek against Cisco’s leather clad thigh.

“Seriously?” Cisco looked genuinely surprised. “I thought you were just going to blow me in this alley. For old time’s sake.”

“If you’d like.” Hadrian fumbled with the button of Cisco’s fly. His face wrinkled in frustrated concentration. Buttons weren’t sexy. They were unnecessarily confusing.

Cisco breathed hard. The swarms were dead. The mounted backup cameras fried. He could let this happen. Just like the first time. When he’d chased Professor Penance down after his Eye Borgs took over everyone with Laboratorium Stella ocular replacements. He had him on his knees, begging for mercy. And then he was begging to know how the fuck this bizarre offworld fastener worked. The next morning Fulgora read him the riot act. She didn’t care how things were done on his world. On this one, professional gods damned super heroes did not release dangerous prisoners in exchange for blow jobs.

Cisco was shaken out of his reverie by Hadrian flipping open a pocket knife. “If you cut through my button hole one more time I swear, I’ll cut off your ear and feed it to you.”

Hadrian smirked up at him. “Promises.” His fingers finally forced the confusing metal disc through the tiny cloth portal. He gratefully moved onto the more familiar zipper.

“We can’t.” Cisco meant to push Hadrian away, but instead affectionately pet his hair.

“I have a year’s worth of documentation to the contrary,” said Hadrian. He palmed Cisco’s hardness without pulling down his boxer briefs.

A drunk couple wandered into the alley, clearly looking for somewhere quiet to make out. When they saw Vibe, their eyes went wide.

“Fuck,” Vibe whispered.

“Can I get an autograph?” asked the man. He fumbled in his tunic pockets for a pen and anything Vibe could sign. From his knees, Professor Penance stared at them incredulously.

The brunette woman drunkenly staggered forward, one hand lightly trailing in Hadrian’s floof, the other reaching for Vibe’s hair. He made himself smile confidently while she touched it. She let out a heavy, panting breath that smelled of cheap wine and cheaper lamb kabobs. “It’s just as soft as it looks in the commercials.”

“His pubic hair feels like a trampoline mated with a foam core mattress,” said Hadrian. He pulled her down to his side. Both of them stared at the thin layer of cloth between them and Cisco’s throbbing erection.

“May I?” She stretched a trembling hand towards Cisco’s underwear. Her boyfriend took out his phone, lining up a camera shot while Hadrian tugged at the top of Cisco’s boxer briefs.

Cisco pushed all their hands away. “Put that down!” He shot a gentle vibe blast at the man, knocking his phone out of his hands and into the wall, where it shattered.

“Hey!” he took a couple drunken steps towards the ruins of his phone before Hadrian snagged his leg and pulled him back towards Vibe. His eyes drifted drunkenly towards Cisco’s crotch.

Cisco stared up at the dark night sky, hoping one of the local gods was sufficiently amused. “Nope!” He pulled the edges of his pants together, flinching as he buttoned them over the head of his erection. “Time to take this ne'er do well to prison.” He dragged a smirking Hadrian to his feet. The couple looked disappointed. Cisco grabbed the man by the shoulders and slotted him into his place in front of her. “Enjoy each other!”

A portal erupted from his raised fist. He shoved Hadrian through it and followed quickly. As it closed, he heard the man shout, “What about my autograph!”


End file.
